Love in Her Eyes
by Sigyn Holmes Laufeyson
Summary: Hey guys. My first fanfic :) This is a one-shot on Loki/Sigyn. It's leaning towards the movieverse than the comics. It's post Avengers, and taking a different twist than the ending of Thor 2. I may put it into my real full-length fanfic of Loki/Sigyn later on, and if so, I'll let you know. Let me know what you think :) Rated T bc of some very mild thematic elements.


The sharp cold bit her hands, causing blood to rush to her fingertips, trying to provide warmth to her. She raised her cupped fists hastily to her lips, puffing and blowing on them, trying to discreetly warm them up without the prince noticing, but to no avail. Her actions secured his attention and he looked over at her. With a chuckle, he took her hands with one of his own and, with his other hand, slid a pair of slender wool gloves onto hers. Immediately she felt heat encase her fingers and she could relax a little more as he turned around to walk on.

She followed in pursuit, just a step behind his pacing, for a while in silence. Eventually curiosity ate away at her and she stopped in her place. However he hadn't noticed, so she knew she had to get his attention. "Loki?" she asked with a soft breath, making the question seem almost naught more than a whisper in the howling wind that whistled about them. In his opinion, to anyone else the name would have been lost on them. But he would never be able to not hear his name, not when it rode on the melodies of her voice, so he stopped, then slowly pivoted on one foot to face her, an eyebrow ever so slightly arched regarding her inquiry. After a moment of her being too caught up passed, her being mesmerized by his ever-piercing gaze, she took in a deep breath as she recollected herself and asked, "Where are we going?"

The words seemed to suspend for a long while before agonizingly settling into the atmosphere about them, just as were the snowflakes that were swirling and floating around the two. She had almost convinced herself that she actually hadn't voiced her curiosity and that the small but intrepid incident had only occurred in her mind when he finally parted his lips to speak; and, when he did, she saw a shimmer of light in his eyes come and go, like a false spark dancing upon a match that one is trying to aflame. But despite the fact that that spark had flashed in an instant's moment, she had seen it, and also knew very well what that light meant...

"Mischief is to be at hand," he slowly, carefully replied, the slightest hint of a playful smirk giving the smallest possible tug at the corner of his lips, as he held out one hand for her to take. With the faintest blush, she took the offer and the two continued their journey together.

They continued to scale the mountains, allowing themselves to be completely enveloped by the carnal silence and the natural music of the forested mountains so deep into the winter season. They tread across the fresh, powder-like snow, the little ice crystals sticking to their boots as they softly marched forward. Though Sigyn trailed ever so slightly behind him, Loki still held onto her hand, and she could sense merely by his touch that she was not a person of lower class to him, but his equal. He did not hold himself nearly as proper and stiff around her as he did when in the presence of every other Asgardian. His posture was more relaxed, and his countenance less shielded from any display of emotion.

At one point they reached a particularly steep and rocky area of the mountain, and Loki guided her in front of him, indicating he wanted her to go first. In his mind he made the excuse of being able to catch her if she slipped and fell, but further within the confides of his thoughts he knew there were other reasons for wanting to watch her climb: particularly just to watch her flawless body move. He wanted to take in everything he could about her, memorize every move she could possibly make. After she had successfully scaled the slope he attempted it himself. His body was still slightly immobilized due to being in chains for so long, but nevertheless he made it over without any strain. He picked himself off the ground and dusted down his clothes that were then covered with the softest of snow. He looked up at her to see her wearing the most amusing expression of curiosity on her face. He could not help but break into a smile, however he suppressed it quickly enough. He walked past her, but as he brushed by he took her hand in his again. It was the only sign of affection he was showing her so far, but she wasn't complaining at all: with him having escaped prison only a handful of days ago and them being on the run for so long, there was little they could do in terms of displaying their feelings for one another, so right now holding hands was more than enough. In fact, she couldn't help but smile at his action, and she felt a little glow alight inside of her at the gentle reminder that he did truly care.

Eventually they came to a clearing. Flat land, few pine trees scattered about them, and they were in the midst of a white-covered field. The sky was pitch black above them, making a stark contrast between the snow-white earth and the ever-dark horizon. His grip on her hand slackened and she slipped away, walking forward softly, to deepen her distance into the field and to take in more the off-beauty that surrounded them. His gaze followed her as she moved away, watching her as she slowly lifted her arms from her sides and tilted her head towards space, her chest rising and falling with every deep inhale and exhale she took and gave. Eventually, though she was only a few paces away, Loki could not bear the thought of being physically apart from her any longer and he approached her silently, so as not to startle her and take her out of her beautiful reverie.

"Sigyn..." he whispered in a voice so low, she thought she heard the mountains groaning. But she was no fool. She slowly turned around to face him, surprise flashing across her face when she realized just how close he was to her. But she watched him as he lifted his hand to her waist, sliding it up to around her back, circling her and pulling her in, all very slowly and carefully. It was almost painful, the anticipation that hung in the air. Sigyn couldn't help but suspect and guess at what was to happen next. She responded to his every touch, every gentle caress, and she relished this moment, for she knew these instances of him being completely attentive of her, being completely absorbed with her, were rare and very special indeed. He had held his head down this entire time as he ran his nimble fingers up and down her arms and back. He eventually reached a standstill, however, and he just held her there. The only thing either was very conscious of was the quiet whistle of wind in the distance and their heightened breathing. Time seemed to be on hold for him, but for her, the moment was taking too long. She began to doubt he would do anything, but then she began to sense that something was troubling him, holding him back. Not wanting to disturb him, she held her tongue. But eventually his continued silence got to her and she asked with concern lacing her voice, "Loki?"

**(Shift in POV, backing it up a little bit. Here I'll describe what's going on through his mind while he holds her. If this weren't a one shot, my notes in this paragraph here would actually be a change in chapter. But anyway, moving right along.)**

He took his time taking her in. The matters of Ragnarok were all too real and he had a gut feeling that this could very well be his last moment of solitude with Sigyn. And… He still hated to admit it, but he felt for her like he felt for none other. Was it compassion? He certainly cared about her more than he typically would allow himself to care about anyone. Was it lust? He ran his fingers over her and closed his eyes as she returned his touches. She was truly a sight to see, more beautiful not only in body but also mind than any other woman he had ever had the pleasure or honor to know. But no, it was more than compassion; it was more than lust, and certainly more than an emotion of the platonic nature… A word popped into his head, one he himself once used to use long ago but had never thought of ever since. Was it… love? He could hardly comprehend the thought. _Love? What is love anyway?_ He was unsure if he was even capable of actual, true love, after all this time.

He was so deep in thought, so possessed by the notion that he had nearly forgotten he was in the midst of her intoxicating presence when he heard his name graced by her lips, curled with such tenderness and concern that he instantly felt a hollowed pit in his stomach, feeling a little bad that he may have worried her by his silence. He lifted his head as his eyes fluttered open, and the first sight he saw was her warm brown eyes. Being this close to her, he realized, he could see her pupils, and they were dilating. Contracting, and releasing. Contract, release. It caused him to wonder if she could see his eyes and what they might be doing. He could only imagine.

Wordlessly, he removed his arms from around her torso and took her hands in his. He slowly removed her woolen gloves, the very ones he had placed on her only an hour or so ago. After releasing her ever-soft hands from the confines of warmth, he looked to his right and tossed the gloves aside, them landing with a soft _tssh_ in the blanket of snow around them. He looked back at her and gazed down, drinking in every line and curve of her face: her eyes, her nose, her cheekbones, her ears, her jawline, and lastly, her lips… Instead of being blue with the cold they were a bright red, brighter than they usually were. His eyes lingered on her lips longer than they had at any other part of her face. Then, slowly once more, he tore his eyes away from them and looked deeply into her own eyes. He saw a flash of something in her eyes, and he raised his right hand to her chin, tilting her head back so he could see her eyes even clearer. Then, he saw it, the motion that took him back to a time when she gave him permission to do what he was just about to do next: he saw her take her bottom lip with her upper teeth in a completely minute, nearly imperceptible bite.

And that was when he kissed her.

You could very well say that the world stopped right there and then, and it wouldn't be cliché. The snow literally ceased its twirling about and the wind froze in its howling tracks. The whole world seemed to magically suppress itself for the two lovers for a moment, but only a moment. Loki released the kiss and slowly moved away, his bold green eyes bearing into her, watching intently her every expression, but he couldn't anticipate her next reaction: she took his face into her hands and pulled him roughly to meet her lips once more, except with a passion that was only now surfacing. The shock of her movement unbalanced him enough to cause him to let his magic go, and the snow began to swirl around once more, except only this time violently about them, enough to stir up a blizzard as they pressed closer and closer together, the intensity and their pace growing and growing. When they broke apart at last only to catch their breath, the snow returned to its initial state: soft, gentle, and floating to the ground. They held each other's gaze for a moment that seemed to stretch out for ever. He didn't notice her reaching out to touch his bare hands until he saw her gaze shift down. His hands were blue, his _jotun_ skin showing. But as soon as her own bare hands made contact with his the color began to drain. She was looking up into his face and though his instincts were to pull away, to look away, something in his mind convinced him to meet her eyes; and so he did.

And for the first time, while looking into anyone's eyes since his mother died, he did not see any traces of pity, fear, or hesitance. Instead, there was love. Out of every possibility, he saw love in her eyes. And slowly, the scars on his heart stopped burning so bright. He began to lose sight of the pains of his past that he always bitterly clung to. And while he lost himself in her eyes, she parted her lips to speak words that he had so longed to hear, from anyone:

"I love you."


End file.
